


Desert Rose

by aeneapsych



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, PWP without Porn, bellydancer!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:30:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeneapsych/pseuds/aeneapsych
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a waiter at a local restaurant, and he doubles as the evening's entertainment.  Derek wants to bring him home.  Shameless PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desert Rose

**Author's Note:**

> This was my gift to [myrandomnesslife](http://archiveofourown.org/users/myrandomnesslife/profile) for the Sterek Secret Santa 2013. My giftee asked for a bellydancing Stiles, rough sex, and bottom!Stiles, so I did my best to comply :D
> 
> Beta'd by the absolutely lovely [thepsychicclam](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/profile)

“Good evening everyone, I’m Stiles, and I’ll be your waiter tonight at the Desert Rose.” A tall, lean young man with a shock of brown hair and amber eyes greeted them, a cheeky smile on his handsome face.

Derek was out with his parents for their Sunday night dinner, and this time his mother had suggested the new Lebanese restaurant just outside of town. The scents of grilled meats and strong spices had greeted Derek as they entered the restaurant, while bright jeweled colors covered the walls and tables. A pretty brunette girl had showed them to their table, dimples in her cheeks as she laid a menu in front of him.

As they were deciding on their meal, Stiles came over to fill their water glasses, and Derek swallowed hard. Stiles smiled brightly as Derek stared open-mouthed, only just catching himself before his parents noticed him ogling their waitstaff. Throughout the meal, Derek found himself absently searching for Stiles as he moved through the room, just trying to catch a glimpse of messy brown hair. Hair that Derek fantasized about running his fingers through, gripping tight as he guided those soft pink lips down his cock.

The worst, or best, depending on how one looked at it, part of Derek’s evening was during the dinner course. The lights dimmed, and a voice over a loudspeaker announced that night’s entertainment. On a small stage in the middle of the room, Stiles was joined by a curvy redhead wearing an emerald bedlah and a tall dark-skinned man with rich blue pants and matching vest. The music started out slow and sensuous, and the group moved their hips in time with the beat, undulating and swaying. The music picked up speed and the dancers’ movements became fast and percussive, and Derek felt his cock stiffen as he watched Stiles execute several slow body rolls as the other two moved quickly around him in a circle. As the song came to a crescendo, the dancers shimmied in a line, arms snaking above their heads until the music ended and the restaurant’s patrons exploded in applause. Stiles and the two other dancers bowed to the crowd, and Derek watched a single drop of sweat slide down Stiles’ torso as he straightened up. He glanced up to find Stiles staring at him, a heated look on his face, tongue running over his lips, before he left the stage.

“More coffee?” Stiles asked, surprising Derek as he laid his warm hand on the top of Derek’s spine and leaned over him, silver pot in hand.

Words catching in his throat, Derek replied, “Yes, please.”

As Stiles poured, Derek couldn’t help but slide his eyes over, trailing over the taut stomach, all lean muscles and a spattering of moles. A ruby red jewel nestled in his navel and a fine dusting of hair led downward into a pair of silky garnet-colored harem pants. Derek licked his lips, the skin dry and chapped as he breathed slowly, willing himself to concentrate on the story his mother was telling.

“And she actually let them out,” his mother exclaimed, laughter tinkling in her voice. “On the full moon, no less. Can you believe it?”

Derek’s father chuckled as he dipped his spoon into his dessert, smiling at his wife.

Stiles winked at Derek as he turned away, and Derek kept staring, his eyes remaining locked on the thin wispy fabric covering what appeared to be a very trim ass. The small metal coins sewn into the waistband of Stiles’ pants jingled as he moved on to another table.

“Derek, sweetie,” his mother said, one perfect eyebrow lifted. “You’ve met the Anderson’s youngest, haven’t you? Sarah said she’s told him stories of when you were a child and we used to go over to their house. Apparently you’ve become quite a superhero for Evan.”

Derek nodded as he sipped his coffee, wincing as he burnt his tongue, the damaged flesh healing itself quickly. He ran the edges of his teeth over the mending fibers, trying to ease the itching sensation that always came with his supernatural healing ability.

Once their meal was finished, Derek sat at the bar after convincing his parents he wanted to stay a bit longer, making up an excuse that he was meeting friends later. His father patted him on the back while his mother gave him a knowing smile before leaving out the front door. The bartender handed Derek his beer, brown puppy dog eyes flitting between Derek and somewhere behind him. Derek smelled wolf on the kid, but now wasn’t the time to figure that out. Drinking was a good cover for sitting and waiting, and he was determined to stay until the restaurant closed and see if he could talk to Stiles, maybe get his number, or possibly ask him to come home with him. Scenarios kept running through his head; Stiles crying out as Derek took him against a wall; Derek on his back as Stiles rode him, his graceful hips circling, grinding; Derek striping Stiles’ pretty pale face with come, his pink tongue darting out to catch a drop on his chin.

Derek adjusted himself as inconspicuously as possible, his jeans growing tighter and tighter the longer he sat there. The brown eyed bartender gave Derek a reproachful look, and Derek flashed his eyes at him, telling him to mind his own business. The kid rolled his eyes and threw his cleaning rag onto the counter, leaving Derek by himself. As he nursed his last beer, he could hear the din of the crowd lighten as closing time approached. Derek tugged his phone from his back pocket and thumbed the screen on, checking the time. He hoped the late hour meant the staff would be starting to leave soon, and sure enough, a few minutes later the pretty brunette hostess came over to tell him he needed to leave as they were getting ready to close.

He slapped a couple of bills onto the bar top and slid off his stool. Grabbing a mint from the tray before he pushed the door open, Derek left the restaurant feeling giddy, the cold air prickling against his cheeks as he walked outside. He leaned against the side of the building, hands in his pockets as he waited.

“There you are,” a voice said from his right. Derek looked up as Stiles came into view, now wearing a pair of worn jeans and a Berkeley sweatshirt. Stiles got into his space, long fingers wrapping around the collar of Derek’s jacket as he pressed himself against Derek’s body, heat bleeding through. “I was reading that right, wasn’t I?”

Derek nodded as he slipped his hands into the pockets of Stiles’ jeans, pulling him forward so he could feel Derek’s erection.

Stiles hummed contentedly, leaned forward to nip at Derek’s jawline. “I sure was,” he mumbled as he licked a thick wet line up Derek’s neck, scraped his teeth over Derek’s earlobe.

“Come home with me,” Derek whispered.

“I will if you tell me your name,” Stiles said as he trailed his fingers down Derek’s chest, rested his fingertips on Derek’s belt.

“Derek.”

Stiles smiled and stepped away, held out his hand.

~~~~

Stiles whistled as he turned around, eyes wide as he took in Derek’s living room. “Nice digs, man.”

“Thanks,” Derek replied, watching the delicate skin of Stiles’ neck stretch as he scanned the art that hung on the walls.

“You gonna fuck me or what?” Stiles asked as he looked around, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

Derek raised one eyebrow. “I’m just waiting for you to finish checking out the décor.”

Stiles laughed, throwing his head back. “Chase me,” he demanded, then turned swiftly on his heel and ran out of the room, stripping off his sweatshirt as he went, flinging it to the ground.

Derek followed, eyes flashing, his wolf intrigued with Stiles’ playful behavior. He entered his bedroom to find Stiles bent over, sliding his jeans off. Derek rushed over and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, spinning him around to face the wall. He flattened himself against Stiles and they fell forward, Stiles’ hands shooting out to brace himself on the wall, ankles still tangled in his jeans. Derek grasped Stiles’ wrists and pulled them over his head, holding them still with one hand while he wrapped the other around Stiles’ neck.

“Oh shit,” Stiles panted, his eyes glassy. “I really got you going with that chase, didn’t I? You wanna play, big bad wolf?”

Derek hummed and slid his nose up the side of Stiles’ face, breathing in the sharp scent of sweat and lust pouring from him. He felt his teeth elongate and he closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. If Stiles wanted to play, then Derek would play. But he didn’t want to scare him.

“Tell me what you want Stiles,” Derek breathed out. Stiles’ pulse beat rabbit-quick beneath his fingers and Derek rubbed his thumb over the back of his neck soothingly.

“I just - “ Stiles started, and he swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing under Derek’s touch. “I’m fucking stressed out. School, work, family, everything. I don’t want anything complicated. I just want somebody to fuck me stupid for a few hours. I’m not a delicate fucking flower, I won’t break.”

Derek could sense there was a bigger issue here, but he was happy to give Stiles what he needed for now. If there was a later, he could figure it out then.

“I can do that, Stiles,” Derek said. He let go of Stiles’ throat and grasped his chin, turning his head slightly so he could kiss him. Derek licked at Stiles’ lips and they opened for him; they kissed, messy and wet, Stiles moaning in Derek’s mouth. Derek dragged his hand from Stiles’ chin down his chest, hooked his fingers into the waistband of Stiles’ boxers and pulled down. He sucked Stiles’ tongue into his mouth as he freed Stiles’ cock and wrapped his fingers around him, the flesh hot and silky in his hand. Stiles pressed his ass back against Derek and arched his back, rubbing friction into Derek’s erection trapped inside his pants. Derek released Stiles’ mouth and dragged his teeth over his jaw as he stroked Stiles, thumb rubbing over the head, slicked with pre-come.

“Lube, condoms, now,” Stiles breathed out as he shuddered beneath Derek.

Derek tightened his grip on Stiles’ cock. “So pushy.”

Derek slid his hand out from Stiles’ jeans and released his wrists above his head. “Stay put,” he told Stiles and walked over to the nightstand. Opening the drawer, he found what they needed and put the condom in his pocket. He moved back over to Stiles, who was standing still with his hands over his head on the wall, breathing hard as Derek pushed his boxers down his legs. Derek stuck the bottle of lube between his teeth and splayed a hand on Stiles’ back, pressing him flat. He lifted his other hand and swung it down onto Stiles’ ass, a loud crack echoing in the room. A pink blush formed on Stiles’ pale skin, and Derek stroked his fingers over it.

“Aw, fuck,” Stiles moaned. “Do it again, please.”

Derek took a slow breath in through his nose, eyes rolling back as he smelled the thick wave of arousal coming off of Stiles. He spanked Stiles again, hand connecting with the rapidly heated skin, listening to Stiles’ almost inaudible whine. Derek took the bottle from between his teeth and snapped the cap off, tilting it and squeezing, watching the thin gel stream onto the crack of Stiles’ ass. Stiles shivered at the cool sensation as Derek threw the bottle on the ground; he painted his fingers in the mess and dipped them between his cheeks. Stiles rolled his hips back as Derek’s fingers brushed over his hole and Derek leaned forward to bite into Stiles’ shoulder as he slid his middle finger inside Stiles, the tight warmth gripping him. Derek mouthed a bruise into Stiles’ skin, tasted the salty sweat as he added another finger, Stiles’ high-pitched moans sweet in his ears as he fucked into him. He released his lips from Stiles’ skin with a soft pop and let go of his hold on Stiles’ back, moving his hand to press Stiles’ face into the wall. Stiles turned his head, panting as Derek added a third finger, fingers moving in and out of him quickly, the pace brutal, making Stiles buck his hips up, fucking the air in front of him.

Derek pulled his fingers out and Stiles groaned, hips still bucking as his hole clenched on nothing. One-handed, Derek lifted his shirt to expose his stomach and unbuckled his belt, slippery fingers twisting as he tried to pull the leather through the straps. He could hear every deep breath Stiles took, every quick thump as his heart beat, and he matched his own to Stiles’, trying to calm himself enough so he wouldn’t come the moment he entered Stiles. Derek shoved his pants down and his briefs out of the way, hissing when he took himself in hand, smearing the remaining lube over himself. He swore as he bent over to reach the forgotten condom in his pocket and the lube on the floor, his hand on the back of Stiles’ head drifting down over the soft skin on Stiles’ back. He stood up and ripped open the wrapper, eyes focused as he rolled the thin sheath over his cock, then dripped on more of the lube, stroking himself to spread it around.

He faced Stiles and grabbed onto his ass, spreading him open, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Derek lined himself up and rutted against him, dick sliding in the slick wetness. He caught the tip on the edge of Stiles’ hole and pressed in, breath catching as the incredible tight heat surrounded him, pulled him in. Stiles cursed and stretched his arms above him, the heels of his hands catching on the rough surface of the wall. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ middle and tucked his head in the crook between Stiles’ neck and shoulder. He pulled back and a moan spilled from his mouth, the drag of Stiles’ ass a sweet tightness along his cock, sparks lighting up his spine. Derek fucked back into him hard, held him snug as Stiles started a litany of curses and cut-off words, slammed his hips again and again as he felt the sweat slick between their bodies. His forearms pressed into the wall as he rocked his hips, Derek’s teeth elongated once more and he pierced Stiles skin, unable to stop it, unable to control it. Stiles shouted and came, striping the wall, clenching around Derek’s cock. Derek followed him with a sob against Stiles’ skin, grinding his hips so hard he feared it might bruise him later.

After a moment, both of them breathing hard, silent except for their pounding heartbeats, Derek peeled himself from Stiles’ back and stumbled to the adjoining bathroom. He yanked the condom off and tossed it in the trash, not caring of the mess he made. Derek grabbed a washcloth and wet it in the sink, then went back to the bedroom. Stiles was still leaning against the wall, hands propping him up, arms shaking. Derek went over and wiped the washcloth over Stiles’ flushed skin, cleaning up come and lube. Stiles turned around and wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders, pulled him in for a clumsy kiss, smiled against his lips.

“Thank you,” Stiles said as he placed another chaste kiss on Derek’s lips. “That was exactly what I needed.”

Derek helped him dress, found his misplaced sweatshirt in the hall before grabbing his phone. Stiles typed his number into Derek’s phone and texted himself.

It wasn’t until after Stiles left, with vague promises of calling Derek later in the week, that he noticed Stiles had put his name as “Little Red” in Derek’s contacts.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on my [tumblr](http://aeneapsych.tumblr.com) :D


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